A story of enduring love between two authors with a deep interest in poetry, Beat literature, Zen, art and music, and includes poems and passages written during the heartrending experience of Alzheimer's, care-giving, and death.
Wednesday, March 21, 2018
I’m missing you I look up at the full moon bringing your love (d.s.)
husband of 38 years died in the summer of 2015, a year after we returned to
Portland from NY.He was suffering from
the later stages of Alzheimer’s disease. A dedicated writer and lover of literature,
poetry and jazz, he never stopped writing even to the end when he left me the words: “wife just let go,” on a discarded envelope. His words were barely
legible but I recognized them. Those words became the title of our book
together that's featured in this blog.
his death occurred more than two years ago, it still feels as recent as this
past winter when leaves left their trees and bushes bare again. The loss is still raw.I am told that when a dear one departs they
leave a hole in your heart. So true, and there’s nothing to fill this unique hole
that’s called by his name. He promised
he’d “always” love me no matter what. I count on that promise. I guess I’ll always be counting on it.
there’s the love of friends who showed up with tremendous support when he died, and still
show up. Such a treasure they are. They
know that long after the funeral there’s still the lingering grief. They bless me with genuine love offerings of
all kinds and companionship for which there's no end to my gratitude.
he’s still missing and there’s still that hole in my heart. I’m told that time
will heal the pain of grief and at some point it will come to an end. But the grief
inside of me hasn’t lessened. It’s acute as ever and, at times, unbearable as
the first weeks of his death. No, grief
has no time constraints. It’s never over. It becomes a close companion. Heightened in
moments unexpected, when something, a word, a song, a photo, reminds you of
their absence and brings an instant emotional tug at the heart-mind.
I have to
remind myself it's okay to feel this and that in this emotional way of grief,
I'm expressing a profound love that never dies. And, in the
end, it is “love” that soothes the aching heart. Love is a word that can never
be exhausted. Even Einstein admitted about the “Universal Force which is Love”
in a letter to his daughter.
Yes, the greatest force ever and priceless of all gifts is